


How to Claim a Warlock

by ohitsthatchumlord



Series: How to Claim a Consort [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Begging, Bickering, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Multi, Pet Names, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Riding, Teasing, Vaginal Sex, but its very affectionate, if anything Gwen and Arthur are service tops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:55:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26247517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohitsthatchumlord/pseuds/ohitsthatchumlord
Summary: Takes place directly after How to Share a Consort
Relationships: Gwen/Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: How to Claim a Consort [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906672
Comments: 4
Kudos: 142





	How to Claim a Warlock

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't initially plan to write smut for this series but this idea hit me in the middle of writing How to Share a Consort, so here it is.

“What do you think Arthur, should we show him how much he’s worth?” Anticipation builds in him at the queen’s lilting words.

“Yes, I think we should. Come on then, Merlin, up against the pillows.” Merlin scrambles to comply.

~

Once he’s suitably arranged on the royal bed, Arthur turns his attention to Gwen. They kiss passionately with Gwen’s back to Merlin, but the sorcerer can see enough. Arthur, slow as can be, loosens the ties holding her pair of stays in place. Gwen rips Arthur’s shirt off, and the king moans when she scrapes her teeth over the meat of his pectorals, causing Merlin to echo a moan in sympathy. Another brief, startled groan escapes Arthur as Gwen loosens the ties of his kingly breeches and presses against him as she does so.

The king glances over her shoulder to see Merlin on the bed, eager, his robe already discarded when Arthur’s shirt came off. Watching them with rapt attention, Merlin palms at his clothed cock.

Arthur turns Gwen around and slowly drops her dress to the floor, leaving her in just her thin slip. The king bites his lip, sucking in a breath when Gwen grinds into him as he slots himself up against her back. The blond groans into her, not even trying to hide that he’s shamelessly rutting against her. Gwen jerks forward with his harder thrusts and purposefully sways backwards to keep their hips flush. Merlin squeezes himself at the sight, heat pulses through him as he rolls his hips upwards, mimicking Arthur’s pace.

When Arthur runs his hand up her abdomen, she reaches down to grab his forearms, digging her nails into his skin for purchase. Gwen has her other hand buried in golden strands, arm muscles tensing when the king brings a searching hand to cup a breast. The position displays the contours of Gwen’s chest and her white slip is thin enough to show the peak of her other nipple.

Merlin can’t help but arch off the bed. They’re both staring at him, Gwen, chest heaving as Arthur gropes her with zero abandon. Arthur is looking up through his eye lashes, from where he’s pulled her shift sleeve to the side to mouth at the top of her shoulder.

An embarrassed whine overtakes him as their piercing gazes keep him rooted in place, and Merlin gains enough control of himself to stop pawing at his groin, fisting his hand in the sheets instead to restrain himself.

“Aren’t you just a picture all spread out for us like that,” Arthur states bluntly. Merlin burns hotter than he already was

“God, look at him. He’s red up to his ears,” Gwen adds. Merlin feels lightheaded with how flushed he is.

“Arthur, Gwen, please . . .” His fists open and close in the sheets.

Gwen heeds his pleas. “Of course, love, whatever you want. Tonight, is up to you.” Before he can blink, they rush over to pounce on him, and all he can do is try to hold himself together.

Arthur is on his right, licking down his chest while Gwen occupies herself at his neck and collar bones on the other side of him.

“Keep away from his ears.” Arthur bites out.

“I am, I am,” she mollifies him.

Arthur makes it down to his navel, dipping into it. He plays with the waistband of his trousers, twirling the string holding them up between his fingers. “Can I, Merlin?” He nods quickly and Arthur peals his breeches off his legs.

Arthur is still for a moment. “That’s it.” He says firmly. “His cock is mine, Gwen. You hear me? Christ, look at it.” He traces his finger over the head and Merlin keens, arching off the bed. Arthur holds his hips down.

“Arthuuur, _you_ are no longer sharing, at all. You have his ears, his neck, his hips, and now his gorgeous prick too. You’re too greedy” Gwen complains, inducing a stuttering whine from the sorcerer. _Fuck_ , Merlin doesn’t know what it is about the risqué compliments and the bickering, but he’s never been more turned on and desperate in his life.

“Never said I wasn’t.” Arthur grins giving his dick a single stroke before leaving off again with a smirk as Merlin whimpers at the loss.

Gwen starts, transfixed, and shifts down the bed. “If you’re claiming his cock then I think it’s only fair his arse ought to be mine. Is that alright with you, Merlin?” He nods aggressively. Merlin can’t see any way to break into the conversation and honestly, he’ll be satisfied with whatever they decide. It doesn’t hurt that he likes the way they’re talking about him, possessive yet attentive.

“Ha.” Gwen gloats, “Now shove over.” Arthur growls at her, but doesn’t argue, but as he reluctantly climbs up his side, he petulantly laves his tongue over the side of his neck Gwen claimed previously in efforts to get a rise out of Gwen.

It does. She swats Arthur on his clothed arse then shoves him forward, hard enough so his face hits the pillows at the head of the bed. She barks out a laugh, giggling as Arthur rights himself.

He manhandles Merlin into scooting down the bed and leaning forward so Arthur can slip between his back and the pillows, grumbling all the while. Merlin can feel the king’s hardness squished into the hollow of his back, but Arthur doesn’t acknowledge this, just returns to, what is apparently, _Arthur’s side_ of his neck.

The blond is a solid presence behind him, holding firm, not allowing him to move. He nips at his shoulders, spine, neck, ears, anywhere he can reach. Gwen has divulged herself of her shift and is utterly naked in front of them. She traipses over to the dresser and pulls out a small bottle of translucent oil. She walks back and sets the vial on the bed beside Merlin’s thigh before settling herself on the bed again.

Merlin is tense with anticipation, he feels wild, like the only thing holding him together is Arthur’s strong embrace. Merlin never thought he’d be here, between them. Never even imagined this happening in his wildest dreams.

Gwen places a hand against his thigh and rubs a soothing circle. “Are you still with us on this, Merlin? We can try something else if you’re too tense. I want you to be comfortable.”

The sorcerer’s usual filter for his thoughts is gone and he confesses voluntarily, “I am, I am, just excited. I’ve fingered myself before, so I know what to expect.”

Arthur groans into his neck, biting harshly and Merlin arches back in response. “Fuck, _Mer_ lin.” He pulls Merlin’s hips back, and grinds forward into his spine. “What did you think about when you did it? _Tell me._ ” Merlin tilts his head back onto Arthur’s shoulder.

“You . . . thought about yo- _ah_ , _Gwen_.” He gasps loudly, cutting himself off. Gwen smirks at him from down by his hips. He was completely open to her and she took advantage, running her oil covered fingers up the cleft of his arse.

His hips were twisted just enough so she could loosely straddle one of his splayed thighs, trapping it with his knee flush against the bed, while the other was thrown wide and bent up.

“Merlin,” she teases. “Don’t get distracted, I think you were answering your king.” She circles his rim slowly.

“I- uh, what was the question again?” he breathes out, voice thin and airy.

“What did you think about when you touched yourself? Us? Someone else?” Arthur repeats impatiently.

The answer is pulled out of him by the commanding voice. “Thought about you, Arthur. Your fingers, your cock. Didn’t think Gwen’s fingers were an option.”

“Aww, I feel left out, Merlin. Why wasn’t I in any of your fantasies?” Gwen dips the tip of her finger in, finally, slowly easing it past his opening in short, teasing thrusts.

“ _AH_ , you were _,_ ” he sobs. “You _were_ , Gwen. _Please._ I thought about burying my face between your legs, having my mouth on you, my fingers in you. I didn’t think you’d want to return the favor.” Gwen rewards his honestly by filling him fully up to the farthest knuckle.

“Hmm, well that was silly of you to think.” She teases him with another finger and when he writhes down towards her hand to indicate he’s ready for more, she obliges. The second one slides in next to the first, stretching him out further, especially when Gwen carefully starts scissoring her digits apart to, hopefully, prepare him for a third.

After a few minutes of Gwen spreading him, while Arthur silently holds him close as Merlin heaves in and out deeply, she pulls her fingers out.

He whines loudly. He tries thrusting back, in an attempt to impale himself onto her blessed fingers, that disappeared from where he wants them, but Arthur has him in an iron grip he can’t break. “ _Be still_ ,” Arthur commands. And unlike usual, he listens immediately, stilling his hips and gaining control of his breathing again.

Gwen snorts indelicately. She maneuvers herself forward and to the side, enough so that she’s still straddling his leg, but her lips have access to his neck. She’s holding herself steady with an arm braced by Merlin’s ribs, half lying on top of him, while the other is left free.

She attacks his collar bones with vigor, occasionally trailing up the unoccupied side of his neck where Arthur isn’t currently latched. She sucks lightly on his, likely sweaty from the long day, skin, blowing quick bursts of air against the sure to bruise spots afterwards. At some point, he notices Gwen grinding into his thigh, spreading the wetness of her cunt on a large patch of his skin.

The realization is so distracting he doesn’t notice that Arthur had opened the vial of oil to pour more on Gwen’s spread fingers until Gwen’s dripping digits probe at his opening again, freshly slicked with oil. He cries out and squirms down into the touch.

The queen hums into his jaw with amusement lacing her tone. “You should learn to be patient, dear heart.” And, as though the word were a physical blow, he is left reeling. If Merlin were standing, he would have staggered and fallen over with how effective the endearment takes him out of commission. Eventually, Merlin allows satisfaction to well up in his chest at the affectionate term, even if Gwen seems to be chastising him at the moment.

Then, without warning, she plunges three slippery fingers inside, allowing them to curl slightly and drawing them out too slowly as she stretches him open. “Gwen, _please._ ” He feels frayed at the edges, split open in mind as well as body. Merlin’s lost control at this point and he doesn’t care if he’s begging. Arthur shushes him gently, he’s hardly moving against him anymore, just breathing into his skin but on occasion will press his lips into him.

The queen continues her torturous pace regardless of his pleas. However, it seems Arthur has deigned to give him a semblance of mercy, because in the next moment Arthur seizes a loose hold of his prick where it has sat untouched in all this. The pleasure rips through him in a startling manner and the king’s name is punched out of him as he comes abruptly. His vision whites out and his breath stops in a silent scream as he digs his fingers into Arthur’s forearms and wrists. Merlin returns to his body, gasping and shuddering in over stimulation as both Gwen and Arthur clean the release off his chest with, gentle, tentative touches.

He lets himself drift for a minute or two in the hazy pleasure while they allow him to recover. He hears Arthur mumble saccharine things in his ear like ‘We have you,’ and ‘You look wonderful like this’, without really _hearing_ it. However, it doesn’t take long for the pressure to build again and for the almost pained whimpers as they stroke and caress him in sensitive spots to become cries of pleasure again.

Once his prick has returned to hardness, Arthur sets a steady pace. His pressure is constant, enough to relieve the tension in his groin, but not enough to tip him over the edge again. Merlin is teetering on the edge of despising the sedate way their taking him apart or loving how anticipation consumes him.

He loses himself in pleasure again, but eventually clues back in when Arthur speaks again with a teasing lilt. “Gwen, I can see how wet you are. Don’t you wish you could ride him? Bet you can only imagine how his cock would feel in you. Too bad you can only imagine.” Arthur didn’t change pace at all while he said it, didn’t even acknowledge he was there.

“Oh yeah? Bet it’s driving _you_ insane that you can’t open him up like this.” Gwen changes the angle of her fingers, grazing his prostate for a moment and making him moan loudly. Other than that, she doesn’t address him either.

“Yeah, it is,” he responds casually. Merlin can feel every rumble in his chest which intensifies the straining pressure.

“How about we trade for a bit?” Gwen suggests.

Arthur hums in agreement. “Sounds like a manageable compromise.”

Gwen turns towards him and asks sincerely. “You okay with that, darling?” Merlin chokes on his tongue. He can’t speak, not when Gwen continues to use loving names like that. He was distracted last time she used one and too blissed out minutes ago to acknowledge Arthur’s sweet nothings, so he didn’t appreciate the full affect, but now he feels punch drunk with it.

He’s certain, at this point, that she has figured out how strongly the words affect him and is specifically targeting that weak point to crack open his heart and render him utterly vulnerable. Even if she hasn’t, Merlin doesn’t think he stands a chance. He wants to say them back but resolves that he can’t really string together sentences right now.

Arthur nips at his neck, startling him. “Need an answer from you, beautiful.” That dazzling feeling of gratification sweeps through him and he is dumbfounded, because, as Merlin now suspects, he must be so _obvious_ , for them both to have figured it out. Merlin was wrong, he definitely doesn’t stand a chance. Against either of them.

Eventually, when he doesn’t answer, Gwen allows a final drag of her fingertips against the spot inside Merlin that makes him catch his breath before holding her hand still. Arthur too, slows his strokes to a gradual stop so he can focus. Shaky and breathless, he manages an affirmative.

Once Gwen has removed her fingers and Arthur has slipped out from behind him, he has a moment of clarity. Merlin realizes Arthur’s awkward shuffling around, which he’d initiated moments earlier, is actually just him gently rearranging the pillows behind him so he’s more comfortable. Fierce affection settles warm in his chest. He could cry with how happy the thoughtful gesture makes him.

Merlin waits for the king to finish his task before grabbing Arthur by the shoulder and pulling him around to kiss him softly for the first time. “Thank you, precious,” he mouths quietly against Arthur’s lips, finding it’s actually much easier to tack on the endearment than he’d initially imagined. The blond pulls away, but not before leaving a second chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. Merlin catches the slight tint to Arthur’s cheeks as he moves down the bed but doesn’t call attention to it.

As Gwen shuffles forward to hover over his abdomen, the king replaces her in the spot between his legs. Merlin accommodates him and throws the leg Gwen was straddling around Arthur’s shoulders, so he has more room.

They’re all suspended in position for a few silent moments. By this point, his arousal was simmering pleasantly deep in his groin, but he feels it has the capability of returning to a blaze at a moments notice.

“Ready?” Gwen enquires, brushing the heated skin of his cock with the edges of her cunt.

Merlin was right. The string of tension zips back through his gut, down to his toes, and reignites the arousal burning through him.

“Yes,” he replies, he squeezes her thighs where they settle on either side of him. She’s leaning back against the thigh that’s held perpendicular to the mattress by Arthur’s well-developed shoulders. Slowly, always _so fucking slow_ with Gwen, she sinks onto him, moaning beautifully above him. Gwen holds for a moment, catching her breathe, her wet heat tenses around his sensitive member as she shifts into a comfortable position.

She stabilizes herself against his abdomen as she rolls her hips forward and back once, which finally snaps Merlin’s hold on his self-control. He attempts to meet her hips with his own upward thrust and he’s glad Arthur prevents it by keeping a tight hold of Merlin’s own hips. He doesn’t want to hurt Gwen. _Never_ wants to hurt her.

Gwen sinks down on his cock rhythmically, resuming her tantalizingly idle pace she seems to prefer while fucking. When the queen’s movements become familiar, he settles back into Arthur’s meticulously arranged pillow nest.

As soon as he’s sure he can restrain himself, Arthur rips that feeling away when he unhurriedly, almost leisurely glides his soaking fingers into his stretched hole. He cries out loudly but gets shushed by Arthur again, but he can’t be quite because Arthur’s fingers are longer and thicker than Gwen’s.

Arthur’s fingers are soft at the tips where Gwen’s were calloused by years of servant work, but they have more reach than the queen, and Arthur’s movements are more assertive, less aggravating gentleness. His fingers _press_ into that bundle of nerves with long stays of pressure, and Merlin is sobbing in pleasure at this point.

These two have ruined Merlin for anyone else. He won’t ever be able to touch himself again at night without this vivid scene playing out, he won’t be able to walk around during the _day_ without remembering the feeling of the king finger fucking him perfectly while the queen envelopes his prick with her soft cunt.

His chest is heaving, and it takes everything in him to bite back moans with every jerk of Arthur’s fingers or the feeling of Gwen bottoming out. He must be too quiet, suspiciously quiet, because in the next moment Arthur pops his head over Gwen’s left shoulder, resting his chin there to ponder, “What is it? Too much? We can stop.”

Merlin rushes to assure him and end any thought of stopping. “No, no please. Don’t want to stop. _Please don’t stop_.”

Arthur peers down at Merlin’s flushed and begging form from his perch tucked snug against Gwen’s neck. “Christ Gwenny, you hear that? He’s taking us so well.” The warlock whines.

“So perfect. God Merlin, you feel _amazing_ ,” the queen tenses around him when she says ‘amazing’ which upsets her previously lax rhythm, coaxing a startled moan from him. “So glad you joined us tonight.” The queen gasps against him.

“Me too,” he manages.

“Are you forgetting me again?” Arthur croons

“Never,” he tries to assuage him. Arthur rewards him with a particularly purposeful graze of his fingers and a roguish smirk.

“How close are you?” Arthur murmurs at the queen.

“Almost there,” she announces while panting on top of him. Merlin can’t help but focus on the way she parts her lips and tilts her head towards the ceiling as tension envelopes her posture.

Arthur meets his gaze, which is somehow not completely hazed over in lust. “What about you, Merls? You close?”

“Mmhmm,” he manages. _Fuck_ , he wants to empty out everything in his head except for the nice names they call him. Who needs spells? Not Merlin, that’s for sure. Spells can’t make his heart beat erratically in his chest, can’t stop the muscles in his lungs from working, can’t fill his head with that peaceful fogginess like the names and praise do.

“I hope you can hold on until Gwen comes. Don’t want to disappoint the queen, now do we?” he emphasizes his point by kissing the corner of Gwen’s mouth.

“I can hold on,” he affirms confidently.

“Good. Maybe after, I’ll have your cock back, I think it’d taste lovely covered in Gwen’s slick.” Merlin is so close; he has to bite his tongue.

Gwen turns her head to lick at the king’s lips, before grabbing Arthur’s hair, similar to their position when Arthur was removing her dress. “Arthur, god, you have to have him like this some day, his cock is so long, I can feel it in my throat.”

Merlin believes the royal couple are trying to see if he’ll break, challenging him. He debates using magic to hold off his orgasm, but he thinks Arthur and Gwen would be disappointed in him for cheating, and he can’t have that.

He tries to think of all the rotten potions Gaius made him try, of the disgusting troll that Uther married, of Uther himself. One of those must have worked, because he feels the imminent tide of his orgasm recede somewhat.

“I wouldn’t be opposed.” Arthur’s words almost shatter his resolve. Merlin can’t stop himself from bucking up into Gwen harshly.

Arthur reaches around her to press against the small nub above her core, and she only meets his thrusts a few times before spasms wrack her body. Arthur flutters his finger against the sensitive spot between her legs until her spine becomes taut. She comes then, completing one last roll of her hips before her cunt clenches deliciously around him as she grinds uninhibited into Arthur’s hand.

As she comes down from her orgasm, she rolls off his prick, collapsing beside him. He buries his face in her neck and Gwen sedately goes to curl Merlin’s tangled and surely sweaty hair behind his ear.

She holds his face close and whispers to him. “Look at him Merlin, he wants you so badly.” Merlin draws his gaze down to Arthur. Merlin’s leg is still thrown over his shoulder and the king has shifted down the bed to stare at his cock where it sits at full attention. Gwen traces patterns into his scalp, panting raspy breathes as he listens. “We talked about you, you know. During sex. How you’d look, how you’d feel, how you’d taste. Arthur once shot off so spectacularly thinking about your cock while I had my fingers inside him.” Kissing down his abdomen, Arthur groans confirming Gwen’s idle comments and Merlin moans at the image.

“He also wants to lay claim to your back. I think you’d look nice with your face pressed into the sheets with Arthur fucking into you from behind. Don’t you?” He’s sobbing at this point, silently begging for more, but they ignore him. Her other hand trails up his chest lightly, circling a nipple at one point. 

“He’d leave such dark bruises on your shoulders, I’m sure. He’s quite possessive when he wants to be.”

“Fuck, _Gwen_ ,” he can’t help but cry out, voice shredded and hoarse with how destroyed his throat is from moaning.

“Does that sound good?” He nods intensely. “Maybe next time, sweet one. I don’t want to wear you out.” Merlin whines again at her casual promise.

“Guinevere. _Mer_ lin. If you’re quite done ignoring me,” Arthur huffs, pointedly biting at his thighs.

Merlin reaches down to pat him on the head comfortingly. “Could never ignore you, Arthur.” The king hums and leans into his hand.

“He likes his hair pulled,” Gwen whispers conspiratorially. Merlin winds his fingers into the golden strands and receives a groan from Arthur as he finally dips down to engulf his leaking cock. Arthur encourages the sorcerer to guide his head, hollowing his cheeks harshly with labored breathing. He’s unfairly good at this and Merlin doesn’t know if that says something about the king’s surprising skill or if Merlin just doesn’t know any better.

The blond’s hand inside him has resumed moving, gently impaling him with prodding fingers, purposefully timing his thrusts with the pace Merlin pushes his head down. The pleasure coursing through him ratchets impossibly higher, the warlock can feel his magic pulsing along with the rhythmic burst of heat setting his nerves on fire.

Gwen mouths at his ear. “Come on, Merlin. Let go for us. We want to see you.” Clumsily thrusting his hips down into Arthur’s hand and up into his wet mouth, anything to chase down that final bit of friction. Merlin finally comes in a loud cry as he releases _everything,_ including his hold on his magic. He can sense the innate energy whipping around the room in a rough approximation of how he feels, fluttering Arthur’s hair around his grip and rattling the windows. He’s wracked with shuddering sobs and harsh heaving breathes and Arthur just mouths around his cock as he comes down and his explosive magic settles back under his skin.

The king slips his fingers out to palm his uncovered cock, Merlin had been too distracted to notice that Arthur had loosened his breeches enough to slip his cock out. He ruts into the sheets and his still wet fingers, biting against Merlin’s skin, scraping his teeth against his hip bones as he loses himself, release spilling over his hand. The brunette tugs lightly at Arthur’s hair as he muffles a long groan into Merlin’s stomach.

After breathing against his moist, sweaty skin for a time, Arthur wipes his hand on Merlin’s trousers that he’d discarded on the bed earlier, tucks himself back into his breeches and before the sorcerer can protest, the king crawls up Merlin’s lax body, dropping himself bonelessly against his side. He throws a leg and arm over Merlin to touch Gwen and buries his face in Merlin’s hair, seemingly falling asleep. The heavy limbs are a comforting presence.

He turns his attention to Gwen when she asks, “How are you feeling?”

“Never better,” he hums happily, before adding. “You both are insatiable. Is it always like this between you two?”

“Not in the beginning, no, but we’ve been experimenting, trying to figure out what we like and what we were missing.”

“Shh, sleep,” Arthur grumbles. Merlin tangles his fingers in the, apparently awake, king’s hair, which calms him.

“Turns out it was you,” Gwen whispers to him, smiling.

Merlin beams. “I’m glad you figured it out then, even if figuring it out involved fighting over me like children.”

“Yeah, but you like it,” she teases back.

He sighs, “Yeah, I maybe love it.”

“Shhhhh, go to _sleep_ , Merlin,” the king huffs.

“Gwen’s talking too!” he replies shrilly.

“Gwen’s the queen, she can do what she likes,” Arthur mumbles. Gwen’s body shakes with her giggles.

“God, what am I going to do with you both.” Merlin chuckles into the top of Arthur’s soft hair.

“Sleep,” Arthur grunts.

Merlin’s smile doesn’t diminish as he agrees. “Yes fine, sleeping now.” He rolls over to face Gwen and Arthur pulls him snug against his chest, lining their bodies up as much as possible. Arthur snuffles his approval into the back of his neck and Gwen tangles her legs with theirs, placing her hand on top of Arthur’s against Merlin’s chest. Merlin drifts off to sleep, held securely between them.

**Author's Note:**

> I somehow dipped into BDSM vibes when I had no intention of doing that, but I think Gwen and Arthur as service tops made sense since they are a couple in an established relationship bringing in a new lover who's been pining after you for years. 
> 
> Btw, I did some research about Medieval pet names and I’m not even stretching that far with the one’s I’m using. Apparently affectionate terms and nicknames flourished in the Middle Ages.


End file.
